


the bonds we make

by darkangel0410



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 11:37:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11289945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkangel0410/pseuds/darkangel0410
Summary: Brent's seventeen when his Words finally come in.





	the bonds we make

**Author's Note:**

  * For [waffles_007](https://archiveofourown.org/users/waffles_007/gifts).



> Happy early fic day, bae! :*****

Brent's seventeen when his Words finally come in.

It’s later than most people's show up -his brother already had his; _"Hey, you want to grab a coffee?"_ was printed out on his bicep, and Keith was four years younger than he was- but looking at the messy scrawl on his hip, Brent thinks that it had been almost worth it for the sheer ridiculousness of the words.

He hadn't even noticed until he came out of the shower after practice and dropped his towel to get dressed, one of the guys whistled at him before dragging him into a headlock and saying, "Aww, our little Brent is a man now, look at that."

"What the fuck are you talking about Laddy?" Brent asks after he shoves him off and finishes pulling up his boxers.

"That," Laddy says and jabs his finger into Brent's hip. "You've finally grown up, Seabs, I don't know if I can deal."

"Shut up," Brent tells him as he glances down and then stares at the words on his skin where there had been nothing but smooth skin when he woke up that morning.

"Holy fuck," he breathes out, hesitantly pressing his fingers into the words.

Ladd gis his arm a friendly punch and messes up his hair while Brent’s too distracted to stop him. "Seriously, Seabs, congrats, dude. I know you said you didn't care, but."

Brent nods absently as Laddy slings his gear bag over his shoulder and heads out, leaving Brent standing there with his palm pressed against the words that now decorate his hip.

As the other guys start coming out of the showers, Brent snaps out of it and gets dressed fast enough that it causes some raised eyebrows but he gets out the door before anyone can ask him what's going on.

The drive to his billet's takes longer than usual because there's an accident and Brent alternates between tapping his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently and touching his hip.

*

It's past five when he finally pulls into the driveway; he stops in the kitchen for some Gatorade and finds a note from his billet mom telling him she was out shopping and wouldn't be back until later.

As soon as he gets his door shut behind him, Brent tosses his drink onto the bed and strips out of his clothes until he's just in his boxers and can see the handwriting scrawled across his skin once more.

“ _Fuck me, that looks bad, are you all right?_ ” Brent read out loud, a small smile on his face; he rubbed his thumb across the words and shook his head at his future soulmate. "Hopefully this means you play hockey and we can be on the same team eventually."

*

It's a few more years before he actually meets his soulmate.

And it's not that he's forgotten about his Words, or that they mean his soulmate's probably a hockey player, but Brent gets very good at putting them to the back of his mind so he isn't distracted during practices or games.

*

He meets Duncan during prospect camp that year.

The coach has all the defensemen paired up, switching them around every so often as they split up to play five-on-five.

Keith's on the other team and they're fighting for the puck along the boards, when Brent turns at just the right angle and Keith elbows him in the eye hard enough to put him on his ass and sends a shock of pain through his system.

"Motherfucker," Brent spits out as he shakes off his glove so he can press against the bruise he knew was going to be there tomorrow.

Duncan crouches down next to him, looking concerned. "Fuck me, that looks bad -are you alright?"

"Fucken awesome, asshole, wanna kiss it better?" Brent snarls at him before he feels a tightness in his chest and a sharp, buzzing pain in his hip, right where his words sat.

Brent presses against them, just like he had so many other times before, but now his skin is warm, hot enough that he can feel the heat even through his gear.

He looks up at Keith -no, Duncan, his soulmate's name is Duncan and _holy fuck_ , this is his soulmate- and Duncan was staring down at him with the same kind of dazed realization that Brent knew was probably on his own face, his hand pressed against his chest.

They stare at each other for a few long seconds before Brent grabs the front of Duncan's practice jersey and yanks him forward enough so he can press their lips together; Duncan goes easily, kissing Brent back eagerly and tries to grab onto Brent's shoulder with his glove still on.

It takes a minute for Brent to realize that the frustration he can feel tightening his muscles isn't his and then Duncan makes a pleased noise as he shakes his gloves off, and Brent can feel Duncan's satisfaction alongside his own when Duncan is able to touch his face and they deepen the kiss.

_Yes,_ Brent thought, his hands pulling on Duncan's jersey, trying to get to his skin. _Yes, let's -I want to, fuck, get closer, why aren't you -_

And it's not out loud or even very coherent, but Duncan murmurs his agreement anyway and it reminds Brent that this is his _soulmate_ , they won't always need words to talk to each other; it sends a thrill through his system that makes Duncan shudder and Brent wants him to -

 

"Boys," Savard clears his throat loudly and hides a smile at the way they pull apart enough to look up at him, but keep their hands on each other; it reminds him of the first time he met his wife. "I take it you're soulmates then?"

"Yeah," Brent answers, a little breathlessly; he fists his hand in Duncan's jersey when Duncan echoes him.

"Alright, I know they went over this during sex ed, so do you both want the bond?" Savard asks, amused at the way they both nod eagerly. "Out loud, you two, you know you both have to verbally consent before I can let you go."

"Yes," Brent says firmly; he feels Duncan's relief skim the surface of their bond before Duncan tells the coach he wants the bond, too.

"Good," Savard tells them and then motions for the players crowded around to move so they can get off the ice. "We'll finish up here today and then take a break tomorrow. I expect both of you to be ready to play on Friday, understand me? There is no cakewalk onto this team."

"Yes, sir," they chorus without turning around to face him, Brent still with his death grip on Duncan's jersey and Duncan gripping Brent's waist. 

They leave the ice still clinging to each other and Brent’s never been more sure of anything than he is of Duncan and him together.

The agreement and happiness and _love_ he gets from Duncan through the bond makes him grin.


End file.
